Lost at Home, Out of Time
by R. Scott
Summary: She felt sick with guilt. The way he looked now…it was like she’d broken something in him. Something that he’d always kept hidden had been opened up. And it was all her fault. The Doctor tells Martha about Rose.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: You know the drill, I don't own nothing.

This started out as a one off but I'm thinking of developing it. Reviews, good or bad, are always wonderful.

Prologue

It was raining. Hard and heavily, bitter and sharp, the type of rain that makes you wince when it hits you. Like a knife stabbing at your skin. The sky itself was a dark, sickly grey, so dark you'd think it was evening, when in fact it was sometime midday. He wasn't to sure what time it was. Because it didn't really matter. He realized the irony of this, but only briefly.

He was sitting in the graveyard. Had been for a long time, unaware of the pounding, merciless rain, unaware that he was the only one there that day. Just sitting there, cross legged, staring at the small bronze plaque on the ground, never tearing his eyes away from the name engraved in it. He absently toyed with the flower in his hand, it's thorns cutting his thumbs, making him bleed. But he still didn't flinch, only moved the flower to his mouth, his lips now pressed against it's dark, crimson petals. He smelt it, drowning in its sweet, sickly scent. He closed his eyes and for a moment he was lost, lost in his memories, lost in his misery. Blood was dripping from his hands.

He opened his eyes and continued to stare at the name, unable to place the flower there. Unable to look away. He found himself placing his hand there, rubbing his blood soaked thumb over the engraving. His other hand still held the flower to his lips. He sighed, and waited patiently for the tears to come. When they did, he let out a choked sob, clenching his teeth. This was the only time he cried. This day. The day he felt more lonely than any other. And he knew as soon as the day was over he would be ok. He would carry on. But it seemed every year it got harder to place the flower there.

It had been four years. And for some reason this year he couldn't bring himself to leave, to stop crying even. His thumb rubbed over the name again. Her name.

He knew deep down that he shouldn't be doing it. Every year, tormenting himself like this, forcing himself to re-live every moment he'd spent with her. Why she was so different from the rest he never could understand, and he doubted he ever would. He never in his life thought that he would become so…human. So broken. All rationality left him when he was here. He kept telling himself over again that she was alive, she was living her life like she was meant to. But then he would stare at the plaque and she seemed more dead to him that she ever had before. He knew deep down that she thought her life was worthless without him in it. That she would have sacrificed everything, her home, her family, her soul just to have one more day with him. But she was gone. She was _dead_. She'd died of a broken heart and that hurt him more than anything else. Because he had broken it.

He cried, looking up at he sky and noticing how dark it had become. It was night already, he'd been sitting here all day. He finally noticed the rain, still heavily pouring. He sighed again, choking back the last of his tears. His breath was ragged, his teeth chattering slightly as the cold wind set in. He stared at her name again. His vision was blurred slightly, and slowly that sick, dull ache in the pit of his stomach crept in as it did every time he brought himself here. He stared at her name intently, as if doing so would make her appear before him. His Rose. His wonderful, wonderful Rose.

That was when he always decided to leave. He placed the flower there, rubbed his thumb across her name once more. He slowly stood up, his legs slightly numb. And as he walked away he swore once more that he would never go back. But he always did.

Martha was staring down at a book, slowly turning the pages but not actually reading it. She was curled up on a chair in her dressing gown, silently waiting for him to return. She'd paced the control room nervously for a few moments, then returned to her seat. Then she'd made herself a drink, stuck a pot noodle in the microwave and sat quietly eating it. Then she'd paced again. And again. Eventually she'd actually contemplated marching out there and looking for him, giving him a piece of her mind. But she'd promised not to. Every year, she remained in the TARDIS waiting for him to do whatever he did on this day. She remembered the first time he'd done it, nearly a year after traveling with him. He'd held her upper arms, and looked into her eyes, the look that always made her feel as though she wasn't worthy of him, like he was prying into the deepest, darkest parts of her soul. She'd swallowed, and was somewhat scared at the serious, grim expression on his face. She often though about what he'd said next, wondered what it was that was so very important to him. She did know, however, it had something to do with _her._ His friend. The one she had asked about many times but he was never willing to talk about. The one that was better than all the rest. The one that everyday, Martha tried to live up to, to be that person that he'd obviously loved so much. But he'd told her from the moment she'd set foot on the TARDIS. She'd never be able to replace her.

_"Martha. I need to go and do something. Something very important. And I want you to promise me, no matter how long I take, no matter how worried you get, you will not come looking for me. You will not walk outside that door until I return. Can you promise me that?"_

_"Yes of course."_

And he'd rubbed her arm in a comforting, somewhat patronizing way. He'd walked over to the vase that had stood in the control room for as long as she could remember and picked one of the roses from it. It was always full with blood res roses that never seemed to die. And he'd left the TARDIS without another word. She'd walked over to the door and the temptation to just see where they had landed was almost to great. But, of course, she'd promised not too. And eventually, after a few long hours, he'd returned. His eyes were red and raw and he no longer had the rose with him. He hadn't looked at her. He'd pressed a few buttons on the control panel and they'd left the place. He walked down a corridor, still avoiding her. She'd shouted after him, but he'd ignored her. She'd followed him and he'd walked into a door that she had never seen before, and he'd shut it behind him. She'd tried to open it but it was locked. And then she'd heard him sobbing and decided to leave him alone. The next day when he'd walked into the control room the same as always, a broad grin on his face and that sparkle in his eye, she didn't question him. In fact she never mentioned it again. And as the years came and went, he did the same thing. Nearly four years she had been traveling with him now. Four years. The best four years of her life.

And now she was worrying herself so much she felt quite sick Whatever he was doing it never normally took this long. She put her book down and began pacing again, biting her nails. Countless possibilities entered her head and she sat sown again, staring at the door. Any second he'll walk through, go to that room and in the morning he'll get up and…everything will be ok. Everything will be ok.

When it had been six hours she walked towards the door and turned the handle, her mind numb with worry. But she'd promised not to. You promised not to.

Still in her dressing gown and slippers, she pulled the door open. The wind and rain hit her with a surprising force and she let out a small gasp, and tried to focus on her surroundings. It was night time, and she realized with mild horror that she was in a graveyard. There was no one there at all, only the howling wind and terrible rain that hurt as it hit her head. She took a small step onto the grass and scanned the area for the Doctor, fear suddenly setting in and unable to release its grasp until she knew he was safe. She squinted her eyes, the darkness making it hard to see, her breathing suddenly quite heavy. She could be fairly certain that they were on Earth, but as she scanned the graveyard again and again, still not spotting him, thousands of thoughts crossed her mind again. She almost called out his name frantically. She walked on a little further, noticing for the first time how big the place was. She pulled her dressing gown closer around her and shivered, her eyes watering slightly.

And suddenly she knew. She knew that he was watching her, that he'd seen her walk out that door and break her promise. She turned around and sure enough, he was standing by the TARDIS looking at her, his eyes of course red and raw and his expression grim. Hopeless. And worst of all, disappointed.

"Doctor, I…I didn't…" she stuttered, scared that he didn't seem to be moving anywhere, or opening his mouth to shout at her. He just stared at her. After a long, agonizing silence in which the two of them just stared at each other, Martha on the brink of tears, he opened the door and marched in. She followed and saw him storm towards that room again, it seemed the door to it only ever appeared on this day. But instead of leaving him be like she always had done, she shouted after him.

"Doctor please! You were gone for six hours, you never normally take that long! Please, I was worried sick, I thought you were dead!"

He didn't reply and she heard the door slam. She ran forwards down the corridor and started to bang on it.

"Doctor! Doctor listen to me please…" she cried, tearful. "I'm…I'm sorry!"

Still nothing.

"I'm sorry!" she sobbed again "I don't understand…I don't understand why you do it to yourself! Every year, the same thing, you're torturing yourself!" she knew she was making a mistake, but the words wouldn't stop flowing from he mouth. She knew as she said them she would regret them forever. Anger seemed to be bubbling over along with fear and desperation. Her tears were stinging her eyes. "It won't bring her back you know!" she cried "No matter how much you want it, no matter how much you blame yourself, it won't bring her back!"

She stopped to breathe and listened intently to the door, her whole body suddenly numb as she waited for him to do something, anything. She tried turning the handle but, of course, it was locked. Eventually she walked away to her bedroom, sobbing.

The Doctor buried his head in Rose's pillow and ignored the girl that was banging on the door. _Leave me alone. Leave me alone._

_It won't bring her back you know!_

_You're torturing yourself!_

_No matter how much you want it, no matter how much you blame yourself, it won't bring her back!_

So what do you think? Reviews are much appreciated. Let me know if you want this to continue . :o) Ruby


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I bet you forgot about me! lol Thank you for the reviews, they made my day when read them. Not too sure about this chapter, let me know what you think guys.

**Chapter 2**

_He sighed. A sigh that was laced with happiness, love, a sigh that said so much yet so little. It seemed as though he was floating, he felt alive, like he'd been found again. He wasn't in the TARDIS, yet he'd never felt more at home. In fact he didn't know where he was. The room was white, but warm and homely, like it was made for him. He couldn't see any doors, but then again he didn't want to leave. And rose petals everywhere, constantly falling from the ceiling, coating the place in a glorious red that never hurt his eyes._

_"What are you sighing about?"_

_And of course she was there with him, curled up at his side, looking heart-stoppingly beautiful as always. He turned to face her and couldn't help but smile. Her blond hair was splayed out on the pillow and she had a mischievous grin on her face, her eyes so big he could almost see himself in them._

_"Nothing." He breathed, twirling a strand of her hair round his finger. She giggled slightly, her hand cupping his face and her thumb stroking his cheek. She looked around her, confused slightly but still lost in her own happiness._

_"Where are we?" she asked lazily._

_He almost didn't hear her, too absorbed in the sound of her voice, her sweet sent, her beautiful, mesmerizing eyes which he couldn't seem to stop staring at._

_"I don't know." He said, a sleepy grin still on his face._

_She looked at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, hiding her face from his view. He kissed the top of her head. "Hmmmm…my Rose." He sighed again "My wonderful, wonderful Rose."_

_She shifted beside him so she could look at his face. And she kissed him, slowly and sweetly. He found his arms circling her waist, and when she pulled away his eyes were locked with hers and he felt like he was slowly slipping into a trance._

_And suddenly the look in her eyes was one of panic. He rubbed the top of her arm soothingly as tears began to form in the corners of her perfect eyes._

_"Hey…" he said, concern showing plainly on his face "Hey what is it?"_

_She let out a sob and he held her closer. How could something so perfect be so devastating?_

_"Don't…" she choked out "Please don't go."_

_He drew in his breath, his eyes suddenly stinging._

_"Don't say that…" he whispered "I'm right here, ok?"_

_It didn't calm her. If anything it made things worse. She clung to his neck, sobbing, unable to stop.  
_

_"Am I ever gonna see you again?"_

_His hearts froze. The whole situation suddenly felt too familiar. He gripped her tightly, as if she would slip away at any moment._

_"I'm right here Rose, I'm not going anywhere ok?" he said desperately. He felt sick, like he was losing control. The rose petals were falling at an alarming rate, the smell sickly and intoxicating, suffocating him. He held onto her like doing that would protect her from this world that suddenly seemed to be falling apart around them. She didn't seem to hear him or understand what he was saying. She just cried. The sound was tearing him apart, he felt like he would do anything to make it stop._

_"I…" she choked, rose petals everywhere, so many it was almost blocking his view of her._

_"Rose…" he called out, but she couldn't hear him. He could hear her as clear as day._

_"I love you." She sobbed, tears spilling everywhere, and suddenly he couldn't feel her anymore. The words seemed to echo in the room, louder and louder, the very same words she'd said to him on the bay. The last words she'd ever said to him._

_"Rose! Rose wait please!I-"_

_But he was cut off. Wind had suddenly swept into the room, he was drowning in the petals, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't see. Fear gripped him suddenly and he felt sick. He couldn't see her, he couldn't hear her, she was being torn from him all over again._

_"Rose!"_

He sat up gasping for air, his brow sweating. He clutched his stomach, that sick feeling still present, the smell of roses never leaving. He needed air. He stood up slowly, noticing he hadn't even changed his clothes, wet and dirty and cold. His breath was heavy, his head was spinning. A small groan escaped his lips as he slowly walked over to the door and lent against it. He figured this is what a hangover probably felt like, but he hadn't drunk a single drop. His head, however, was pounding agonizingly. He ran a sweaty palm through his messy hair and let out a long, painful sigh. Never again, he thought.

He looked at the room he was in, still the same as he always remembered, on the rare occasions in the past when he got to see it. There was nothing unusual about it- shocking pink seemed to meet his eyes everywhere he looked, trinkets and clothes still cluttered the floor. Photos everywhere, most he couldn't bare to look at.

After a long period in which he just stood there, he turned and walked out of the room, then checked to see if the TARDIS had locked it. Which, of course, she had. He would walk down this very same corridor later and the door would be gone.

He clutched his head. He was going mad, he was sure. Like he was obsessed with doing this same routine on this same day every year. Like every day he was slowly but surely falling apart. After staying for a while, leaning his head on her door, he let out a long, tired breath, and headed towards the shower.

-O-

She poured the kettle, her hand shaking a little. She was trying to breathe calmly, and she reached over to get the sugar. He liked one sugar in his tea. She stirred it around absently, trying to focus on the task at hand. But she couldn't concentrate, too numb with fear. Fear that The Doctor would never be able to look her in the eyes again, that he'd send her home, that she had made th biggest mistake of her life following him out there, shouting at him. Her own words echoed devastatingly in her head, just as they had done down the many hallways of the TARDIS. She couldn't begin to contemplate how he must be feeling this morning. She wanted to kick herself over and over again. She'd had little sleep, and when she woke up her face was stained with tears, her pillow wet, her whole composure on the verge of falling apart. She'd shakily gotten up early, and made her way to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. She hadn't drunk it and it was now stone cold. Then she began to make him one. Like some, pathetic attempt to try and make up for her horrific behavior. What the hell had she been thinking? She let out a desperate breath, fear gripping her again as she picked up the mug and began to place it on the side. Suddenly her hand began to shake more and as she carried the mug over to the table it slipped from her grasp and shattered sickeningly on the hard floor. She let out a small cry, fell to her knees and hurridly began to pick up the shattered pieces of china.

Then his shadow fell across her and she suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of nausia pass through her body. And waited tensely for him to say something.

"Don't do that, you'll hurt yourself." He said. He sounded tired.

"No it's fine, I've got it…" she stuttered, her hands shaking as she gathered the mess she'd made. She drew in a sharp breath as it sliced her hand, blood dripping from it.

"Shit…" she muttered, tears still making her eyes sore.

In a fluid motion, almost dream like, he took her hand and pulled her gently from the floor, leading her over to the sink. Within seconds her wound was bandaged, his touch colder than normal.

She sniffed, and the two of them stood there in an awkward silence, with neither of them wanted to break. But it had to be broken, and so Martha sighed, wiping her eyes.

"I…I didn't…" she started, but he put a hand on her shoulder, causing her to look at him. What she saw made her sadder than she ever thought she had been.

He seemed…distant, staring at the wall in front of them. His eyes were hollow, instead of the vibrant pools of brown that they normally were. He let out a long breath, she could almost see the small lump forming in his throat. She just wanted to hug him. He finally glanced her way.

"It's ok." He said quietly, almost in a whisper. He seemed to want this to end here, but she felt she needed to say more.

"I didn't mean it." She said "I'm so…I'm so sorry."

"But it's true." He said suddenly, his head falling. His eyes were shining, tears slowly forming, but he was doing his best to stop them from falling. She wondered if he had always been like this, that what he showed her was just a front, a mask, that this was who he really was. She'd never seen him so emotional before.

She felt sick with guilt. The way he looked now…it was like she'd broken something in him. Something that he'd always kept hidden had been opened up. And it was all her fault. She didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry." She whispered again. She'd say it again and again and again for the rest of her life if thats what it took, no matter how empty it sounded.

"Stop saying it." He said through clenched teeth.

She swallowed, as she saw a single, pathetic tear finally escape from his eye. She found herself wrapping her arms around his waist, and felt him cling to her, like she was some kind of life line. Heard him let out a small sob, still trying to hold it back all the while. She hugged him tighter.

"I'm sorry." She said again.

"Everything you said was true." He said into her shoulder, quietly, defeated "Every word of it."

She pulled back to look at his face again, placing her hands on both his shoulders. What she was about to say next was a risk, but she said it none the less.

"Tell me."

He looked confused for a brief moment, but then he just looked alone. Empty. Sad.

"Tell me about Rose.

**A/N: Next chapter will be up sooner than this one was:o) Ruby x **


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